Making it Work
by The Dark Knight's Revenge
Summary: Crutchie becomes frustrated with his bad leg and how Jack and the other Newsies baby him, so he decides to make things work. When he adopts the disguise of a limp-free female Newsie to protect himself, Crutchie finds his relationships with the other Newsies, especially Jack, put to the ultimate test. Can Crutchie make things work, or will lose his Newsie family forever?
1. Chapter 1

Crutchie sat on his bunk in the Lodging House, staring hopelessly at his bum leg. Outside the window, snow drifted slowly down.

For about the hundredth time that morning, he heaved a sigh. The other Newsies were out screwin' around in the snow, and as per usual, he couldn't join them. The cold was making his joints hurt and apparently it was icy.

Whenever the winters in the city got too bad, the other boys (Mainly Jack) would make Crutchie stay in the Lodging House so he wouldn't get hurt on the ice or freeze somewhere and work extra hard that day so they could all pitch in and get him some chow that night.

At least, that's what they told him they did. Crutchie knew very well that they sold all their papers in the morning then screwed around all afternoon. He had seen several Newsies running down the street tossing snow at each other already, and expected there to be an all-out war in front of the house before the end of the day.

_"Aw come on, Davey! You is playin' dirty!"_ Les' voice drifted up from the street.

_"Nonsense, i'm just older and faster..." _David threw back.

_"Let's see how well he talks with a pile of snow down his shirt!"_ Jack yelled. Laughter and whooping followed.

"Pfft. Whatever." Crutchie growled, wrapping his thin winter coat better around his shoulders. Maybe Specs or Race would bring him back a couple snowballs like they usually did, and he'd brighten his afternoon by dropping them out the window on unsuspecting bigwigs.

Eventually, the streets darkened and the boys traipsed in one by one, soaked from the snowball fights they'd had and being rowdy just like usual.

Crutchie ignored the sounds of merriment and blew out the candle he'd been reading by, rolling over on his bunk and covering himself with the blanket. He could hear Jack shouting excitedly in the stairwell and prayed he wouldn't come in.

A knock sounded at the door, followed by a slam as it flew open.

"Crutchie! Crutchie! You won't believe- Crutchie?" Jack peered around the deserted bunk room. Crutchie didn't move, but Jack's keen eyes managed to find him anyhow.

"Whassamatter? You sick?" Jack asked, sounding slightly worried. He came to stand by Crutchie's bunk.

"Either you talk to me, or I beat it outta you..." Jack growled after a moment of waiting. When Crutchie remained silent, Jack took off his cap and tossed it on one of the bunks.

"All right then. I'll go get us some chow. You better be ready to spill your beans when I get back."

Jack left, shutting the door with a snap. Crutchie sighed. He hated being at odds with Jack. But after being cooped up inside the Lodge House for almost a week, his anger was at a boiling point.

Jack waltzed back in a few minutes later, carrying two plates. He set them down on the bunk across from Crutchie's, then went to hit throw the light switch. The new electric lights in the Lodge House had been a gift to the Newsies from the Governor as part of his capaign, but Crutchie still preferred to use candles when he could.

Jack went to go sit down with his food and began to dig in. When Crutchie didn't stir, he sighed and put aside his plate.

"You wanna tell me what's up, Crutch?" He said quietly.

"The ceiling." Crutchie replied dully.

"Don't get smart with me, kid." Jack shot back.

"I'm sicka bein' here." Crutchie growled. Jack sighed.

"I know you gotta be goin' outta yer head, but it's slick out there. They had at least two crashes today."

"That didn't stop you." Crutchie spat bitterly.

"I know." Jack hung his head. The room was silent for a moment.

"Hey, lookie here. I found something today." Jack said, digging in his pocket. Crutchie resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew Jack was just trying to distract him.

"Look at this." Jack said. Crutchie humored him and rolled over to look.

Dangling from Jack's outstretched palm was a tiny gold cross and chain. Crutchie had never seen anything so rich up close in his life.

"Where'd you steal that, huh?" Crutchie asked, sitting up and reaching out for the necklace. Jack handed it over then came to sit next to Crutchy on the bed.

"Didn't steal. Some gal dropped it on the street. I picked it up in a handful of snow and nearly beaned Henry with it. Sure glad I saw the chain glinting, eh? Might sell it or give it to a pretty gir-"

"Can I have it?" Crutchie interrupted.

"You? What would ya do with it?" Jack chuckled.

"Give it to a girl." Crutchie said quickly, flushing a little.

"Well, I'll be. The Crutch has got himself a skirt! What's her name, Ilene I-love-a-limp?" He crowed.

Crutchie's anger flared. He closed his fist around the necklace and came around to sock Jack right in the jaw. Jack slammed his head into the edge of the bunk and fell to the floor.

"Stop treatin' me like i'm a crip, I don't need your pity!" Crutchie yelled. He grabbed his crutch from its customary place by the door and hauled himself down the stairs as quickly as he could before limping out into the street.

Already he could hear shouting from inside the Lodge House, so he trie to hobble quickly across the deserted street.

He made it halfway across the icy pavement without incident, then suddenly his good leg and crutch disappeared from underneath him and he fell hard on the bricks. Pain shot through his legs, hands and head and it was all he could do to drag himself the rest of the way across the street and collapse in a nearby alley

The bricks were freezing cold beneath him, and Crutchie realized that he couldn't stay out here forever. His head flopped over to look at the blazing lights of the Lodge House, now abandoned by Newsies out looking for him. He would wait a little longer until his body stopped throbbing, then go back inside.

On the icy wind that dusted him in snow, Crutchie heard the sounds of Jack and Davey calling his name.

Only then did he allow two small tears to track down the grime and snow on his face. They were frozen before he could even taste them.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack lay stunned on the floor as Crutchie hustled out of the room, his head and jaw throbbing, unable to pick himself up.

Crutchie had never hit him before. Not even once. He joked about it, sure, but never socked him a hard one.

Just then, Specs ran in. Jack snapped to attention.

"Jack, did you say somethin' to Crutch? He just humped himself out the door!"

"What?!" Jack yelled. "It's below zero out there, he's gonna freeze his rear!" He held out a hand and Specs helped him up.

Specs took in the ugly mark spreading up Jack's face.

"Your jaw... Crutchie do that?" Jack hastily felt the tender area and came back with blood on his fingers from where the skin split.

"Don't mind me. Get the boys and go get Crutchie. I'm on your heels." Jack growled. Specs nodded and practically leaped down the stairs, Jack grabbed his hat and followed.

By the time Jack came down the stairs, the entire house knew what happened and had been dispersed in groups to look for Crutchie. Davey waited behind in the lower room.

"Jack, your jaw..." He said, eyes wide. Jack resisted the urge to swear at his best friend.

"Ain't nothin' but a bit o' bruisin'" He growled. Davey sighed and handed him an extra coat, which he accepted. Then they stepped out into the frozen street and began calling Crutchie's name with the others.

* * *

"Jack! Davey! He's over here!" Someone yelled.

"Looks dead." Someone threw in.

"I got the crutch, it was in the street." Someone else said.

"He looks pretty banged up, musta fallen on the ice."

Crutchie thought he'd been watching the door to the Lodge House, but the next thing he knew, he was being shaken frantically.

"Crutch? Crutchie! Wake up, you hear me?" He vaguely recognized Jack's voice, but couldn't bring his heavy body to respond... He was just too cold.

Crutchie felt himself be lifted gently into the air and carried a short distance before warm air hit him.

"Gotta get those clothes off, he's soaked through." One of the boys said. Slowly, all his clothes began to come off until he was left in his undershirt and pants. Then blankets were piled on him. The feeling in his limbs began to return.

Finally, Crutchie's eyelids fluttered open. He nearly died of fright.

"ARGH!" He screamed, scattering the crowd of Newsies that had been clustered in a tight circle around him.

"Pay up, he was only out for an hour." Race said to Specs. Various exchanges of money went on around the room.

"Les, go get Jack." Someone said.

"Give the man some room!" Les yelled before he ran out the door. The Newsies that had begun to cluster in scuttled away.

"Beat it." Crutchie growled to them all. He pulled the blankets tighter around his skinny shoulders and tried to stand, but his legs gave out and he collapsed back into his chair.

"You, uh... fell pretty hard. Why don't you take it easy." Specs said. Crutchie glared at the older boy and reached up to feel his face. His entire left cheek was swollen, accompanied by a scraped chin and cut eyebrow. Bandages covered his forehead, and looking down he saw that the same was true for both of his knees.

"Sonofa..." He growled. So much for being mature and taking some air. It was just like Jack said. He was pathetic on his own.

Suddenly, he became aware of another pain, cutting into his left hand. He uncurled his fingers to see the gold cross had cut into his palm. He must have taken it from Jack by accident when he left. When he had fallen, he'd fallen on his knuckles, now ragged and still bleeding.

"We tried to get it away from you, but you didn't wanna open your hand." David said. "I could bandage you now if you like."

Crutchie switched the cross into his right hand and held his left out as Davey bandaged it up.

Just then, Les and Jack burst in.

"Crutch..." Jack said, voice haggard. He looked upset. Crutchie's anger flared again, so he looked away. The other Newsies took their cue and exited the room except for Davey, who kept bandaging.

"Crutchie, come on... I'm sorry, okay?" Jack pleaded once the others had gone.

"Okay." Crutchie said.

"That don't sound like it's okay." Jack growled.

"What do you want me to say, Jack? That it's just fine and dandy? It Ain't." He held out the cross. "Here."

Jack stared silently at the cross, then asked in a dangerous tone, "What's this about, Crutchie? You been sore all damn day about something."

"I'm sick of this. This house, this leg, the way you all baby me!" Crutchie yelled. He tried to stand up, but his legs failed him and he was thrown back into his chair. He willed himself not to cry.

"Well. I ain't forcin' ya to be here." Jack said, obviously hurt. Crutchie felt the guilt gnaw at him as Jack slammed off the lightswitch and shut the door forcefully behind him, leaving Crutchie to sit in the dark downstairs. He let out a sob and chucked the cross at the closed door.

Eventually, Crutchie pulled himself to his feet and used various objects to drag himself to the stairwell. He painfully picked up the cross and held it in his hand. It took him a long time to get up the stairs, and by the time he got to his room, he was shaking and exhausted, body aching everywhere.

He paused outside the door to the room that he and Jack usually shared.

The door was shut and the light was off. He obviously wasn't welcome in their bunker anymore.

Crutchie looked at the cross in his bandaged hand, then hung it on the door handle. Maybe Jack wouldn't be so mad in the morning.

With that thought, Crutchie dragged himself up two more sets of stairs to an uninhabited bunk, throwing himself down on the first bed he saw and falling instantly to sleep.

Downstairs, Jack listened guiltilty to Crutchie's labored steps as they climbed the many stairs to their room. He heard them stop on the landing outside their room, then shuffle slowly up to the empty room two floors up.

Unable to fall asleep until long after Crutchie's steps faded, Jack felt guiltier than hell.


End file.
